Grandma Prior
by Einstein Dachshund
Summary: Meet Grandma Prior. Exiled from Abnegation for "unruly and selfish behavior", she is now factionless and only gets to see Beatrice (Tris) and her family sporadically. This will be a collection of encounters with Grandma Prior from Tris's point of view. First and Second chapters will be pre-Divergent. Will not have an ongoing storyline, rather will be a collection of one/two shots.
1. Chapter 1

Today, me and my family are going meet Grandma Prior in the factionless sector for lunch. This has been an expedition that I have been dreading for quite some time. It is on days like these that I am so aware that I am not cut out for Abnegation. However in my defense, my mother and father, the perfect image of Abnegation, have also been dreading this. Of course, being as selfless as they are, they've never directly come out and said that Grandma Prior was a mean, delusional person, but I can tell by the looks exchanged at the dinner table that they are not on the best of terms with her. I once asked my parents why Grandma Prior was factionless; I was quickly reprimanded for my curiosity, but it did not kill the desire to know why she was no longer welcome in Abnegation. I remember a very long time ago when I was very young, she came to visit us. All my memories of that day are relatively positive and I don't recall any mention of her being factionless.

"Beatrice, Caleb, it is time to leave," my mother calls up the stairs. I stifle a groan. I open my door and Caleb is wearing a pleasantly neutral expression. We reach the stairs at the same time and of course, he lets me go down the stairs before him. He is Abnegation through and through.

My parents wait at the door, both their smiles looking strained. Each of us take a basket of food to carry. As we begin to walk, my father begins an easy conversation with my mother. I find it easy to tune the noise out, as I am watching the train tracks, waiting to see the Dauntless leap off the moving train. I am disappointed when I don't see a train in the distance. It must be on the other side of the city right now.

The sound of my fathers voice breaks through my self indulgent thoughts. "Beatrice, Caleb, are you pleased to be seeing your grandmother?"

The word NO flashes through my mind, but I suppress the urge to speak my mind. "Yes, very much so, I hope she is well," I say smoothly. Caleb gives me a questioning look out of the corner of his eye, but I ignore it. He is the only one who knows even the tip of the iceberg of how much I loathe Grandma Prior. He knows as well as I do how important it is to keep up the selfless persona, and only a selfish person would openly remark about their distaste for someone. He should know better.

When we arrive at the abandoned building that is our meeting place, Grandma Prior is already there. Caleb and I hesitate at the door. "You go in first he says," attempting to look selfless. I know better. He will try to be the first out the door when we leave - the less time he has to be in the same place as Grandma Prior, the better.

"No, no," I say with as much fake pleasantry as I can muster, "Gentlemen first."

Caleb briefly gives me a nasty look, but knows better than to make a scene.

I get my way, and am the last to be left standing outside the door. I inhale deeply and walk inside, muttering profanities in my mind...


	2. Chapter 2

Grandma Prior greets everyone without acknowledging me. She finally looks up and sees me standing in the doorway. I can feel her eyes burning into my flesh, looking me up and down. "Beatrice." She states my name as if it is a curse, a disgrace. "I see you still haven't filled out."

I gulp hard, trying to not let my emotions get the best of my judgement. "I guess all the height genes went to everyone else in the family." I say it with a smile, but there is an underlying hint of venom in my words.

She raises one evil eyebrow. "It doesn't work like that sweetheart," she spits out. I want to wrap my hands around her throat, but my fathers voice interrupts my plan.

"So mother, how have you been?"

"Pretty fucking good until I saw my good looks weren't passed onto my only granddaughter!" You could hear a pin drop. No one dared take a breath. No one in Abnegation is supposed to be vain enough to care about how they look, but an insult on one's attractiveness is foreign territory. No one knows how to respond. I can feel my eyes bulge out of my head and my fists clench. My mother looks at me nervously, as if she can see my rabid instincts ready for the right moment to attack. Father appears to be somewhat confused, but stares at Grandma Prior, as if trying to convey a silent message. Caleb is biting his lip and staring at the ground.

Grandma Prior looks around at the group of us, before letting out a cackling laugh. It is too loud for this room, too large for this moment, and I cringe. "I was just kidding you guys! Wow, you guys really are stiff, aren't you?!"

No one responds.

We are eating on the floor, and I cannot help but stare at Grandma Prior's mouth. I know I should not stare, nor should I pass judgement, but this is rather distracting.

Grandma Prior had false teeth because she failed to execute proper oral hygiene throughout her lifetime. As a result, her mouth was disgusting. But the weirdest part was that she still had some real teeth. You knew which ones were real by looking at the top of them. Yes, you heard me, the top of them. The false teeth were sort of pointed like regular teeth, but the fake teeth... well, weren't pointed. They were flat and probably the width of your pinkie finger. The top of the flat teeth were a brown color, a shade usually reserved for dried mud.

Okay, now that you have that visual, you need to understand how she chews. Go into your attic into that box of Christmas decorations. Get the nutcracker. Now watch how the mouth moves when you activate his nutcracker action. That is how she chews. Observe the crumbs from the crushed nuts dribbling down the front of him.

Now, take a plastic baggie of paste or liquid. The important part is that the contents are under pressure. Put it in the mouth of the nutcracker. Activate the nutcracking. Watch debris spray everywhere within a five mile radius.

That is how she eats when she is surprised.

And apparently very surprised she was when she looked up and saw me and Caleb sitting next to each other.

Caleb and I have always been different looking. Me, with my eyes too large for my face and nose that is too long with wispy blond hair. And then there is Caleb. If he had been born into any other faction, he would be called handsome, the girls would chase after him. He has perfectly proportionate, symmetrical features. As a bonus, he is always exceptionally well groomed.

The contrast between the two of us caught Grandma Prior's eye. "You-" she began, with food pouring down the front of her shirt. "Two-" she continued, struggling to swallow the food that hadn't fallen out of her mouth. "Look so... different."

In defense of my mother, she saw what was coming and tried to steer the conversation away with distractions. But it was no use, Grandma Prior was fixated and going in for the kill. She waved her fork between the two of us, before finally settling on Caleb. "You-you're the cute one," she said. Naturally, Cale looked down at the ground, smiling modestly while silently agreeing with her.

I felt a hollow pit in my stomach, because once again, I was the lesser sibling.

"You're not very smart though. You need a rich wife." It was not said in a mean or aggressive manner, rather in a casual, factual tone. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like that dapper young actor... I think his name is Ansel something-hort?"

"Abnegation doesn't allow for self indulgent tabloids, Grandma Prior. I don't know who that is." He spoke stiffly, his voice dripping in disdainful caution. He does not acknowledge her other comments.

Grandma Prior's gaze began to linger on me, picking her next target.

"Well, Beatrice, you're not very pretty. But I don't Worry about you because you're smart, you'll be able to take care of yourself." As an afterthought, she added "Which is probably a good thing. Because, well, you know."

I wasn't sure if I was seething because of what she said about me, or because of what she said about Caleb. I wanted to tackle her and make her apologize. What gives her the right to say those things?!

My mother, always the tension breaker, chirps put "Well, we should probably be going now. Thanks, it was nice to see you!" Neither Mother or Father suggest we should say a more formal goodbye. My mother grabs my forearm with a death grip and practically drags me out of the building.

"And that," my father says between gritted teeth, "Is why it is not a good idea for Grandma Prior to associate with the Abnegation. Actually, with any faction. Beatrice, Caleb, I am proud of you two. Good job."

I am too stunned to respond. Father criticizing someone?


	3. Chapter 3

**_This is based off of the scene in Divergent where Tris encounters a factionless man after her aptitude test. Enjoy! Reviews Appreciated :)_**

_Abnegation. Dauntless. Erudite._

_Divergent._

The words pound through my head, loud as a drum.

I begin walking home, making sure to stay in the center of the street. The buses tend to hug the curb, so it's safer here.

I can't breathe. I can't think. I can only walk, placing one foot in front of the other.

I turn the corner and there is a factionless woman. I feel a pit in my stomach. It's not just any factionless woman. It's Grandma Prior.

It would be too obvious to turn back now. I continue forward, making sure to keep my head down and eyes fixed on the ground in attempt to be as unassuming as possible. Just as I think I am in the clear, I hear the voice that I don't want to hear.

"BEATRICE!" Grandma Prior barks out. I squeeze my eyes shut and cringe, while taking a deep drag of air. "Do you have any food in that bag, or do you just carry it as a goddamn decoration?" she asks, laughing cruelly.

I feel a lump in my throat. I can't handle this right now. But nurture beats nature, as I hear my fathers voice in my head. _Beatrice, we need to help those who can't help themselves. Give food and kindness to any factionless who needs it._

With hesitation in voice, I respond. "Um... Grandma Prior. It's so... _wonderful_ to see you. Of course I have some food for you." I reach into my bag and hand over a bag of dried apple slices.

She snatches them from my hand, and then grasps my wrist.

She gives me a twisted smile. I can see every detail of her repulsive teeth.

"Beatrice, I suppose I didn't give you enough credit. You do have rather nice eyes. It's a shame the rest of you is so plain," she cackles out.

"Wait a second, you're sixteen, right?" she asks.

I silently nod my head.

"Didn't you have the aptitude tests today?"

I can picture it now, bringing my elbow back and hitting her. I want out. As if she can sense my impatience, I feel her hand tighten further around my wrist.

"Yes," I state simply.

"Where is your brother? Why are you walking home alone?"

I am not used to curiosity or questions. Abnegation views it as pure selfishness, gaining knowledge for ones own benefit.

"I got sick and had to leave early," I say levelly.

She laughs. Hard. "That's the best excuse you got? It's the oldest trick in the book. Get your ass back there and take your test."

"I already took it." Constrained frustration is beginning to creep into my voice. I know it is not good, it is not right, but it cannot be helped. It is simply the emotion that Grandma Prior evokes in me.

She raises her eyebrows. "And...?"

"We're not supposed to share our results." I state coldly.

She softens her facial features. It does not look natural on her face. "Beatrice," she begins, her voice gentle. "I'm your Grandma Prior. You can tell me anything."

She does not loosen her grip on my wrist.

I can feel my walls shifting, ready to break down. But no, no, I cannot open up to her of all people. She is evil. The walls go back up, reinforced in iron and brick. "I can tell you anything since when? I see you once a year at best."

"All the more reason to tell. You won't have to face me again until next year, at which point you'll probably have forgotten whatever you've told me." She smirks. "That is, unless you are planning on transferring." She says it as if it would be a dishonor. She says it like a threat. She says it like a dare.

I stare her down, directly into her eyes. It is not so different from the dog in the aptitude test. To look away would to be implying submission. Submissiveness belonged to the old Beatrice. Today, I feel like fire, like a different girl from who I was yesterday. I do not want to be submissive to Grandma Prior. I want to be the leader, the predator.

In the blink of an eye, I rip my wrist from her hand. I can feel blood rushing back into it. She must have really been squeezing hard.

Grandma Prior raises her eyebrows. "Why so testy, Beatrice? Could I possibly have struck a nerve?" She continues on in a mocking tone, "Please, accept my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to be... _pushy_."

"Shut up." My voice comes out calm and clear. There is a tremble underneath it, not of fear, but of anger, as if I am a volcano ready to erupt. I doubt it is detectable to anyone besides myself.

She flashes a sick smile. "You know, you have always come across as being a little... different. It wasn't your unfortunate looks, no. It was your incredible ability to be a loudmouth, a know it all, a deceptionist, a daredevil and a wallflower, all at the same time."

I feel a deep sense of unease. She shuffles another step closer to me and raises her hand up to my face. She touches my cheekbone lightly. "Could it be that you are... Divergent?"

I don't want to gasp, but I do. Where she previously been touching my cheekbone, she now slapped. "You stupid, stupid girl. You should be killed! I agree with the Erudite, these 'Divergents' are bad news if they are all like you."

_Erudite? What?_ I think to myself, but I don't have time for that. I shove my hands against her chest, hoping to knock her over. I don't think about the consequences, I just do.

Grandma Prior pushes back me with a surprising amount of force. I hit the ground and she tackles me, pinning me down. Her face is eerily close to mine. I wonder if this will be the last moment of my life. "If you keep up with that behavior, I might just have to tell everyone what you are. I bet the Erudite would give me a very nice apartment for this information..."

"You wouldn't," I manage to gasp out between sporadic breaths.

"Oh yes I would if you keep it up. Now give me the rest of the food in your bag or I tell Erudite," she threatens.

I hand it all over to her. Her expression becomes greedy. Her posture relaxes slightly, and I take the moment to punch her in the rib cage. She hits her head on the ground hard. She is still breathing, so I know she's not dead, but she is definitely unconscious.

I should feel bad, I should feel guilty. I should wait with her until she wakes up or take her to the hospital. But I just can't find the kindness in my heart, now matter how hard I try to find it.

I run from her unconscious body without looking back.

When Caleb gets home, he questions me as to why I left early. I tell him about my allegedly upset stomach, and I think he believes it. He is not paying full attention though.

"Caleb, what's wrong?"

He sighs. "Oh not much, you know the tests and everything. But when I was on the bus on my way home, I saw a factionless person sleeping in an alleyway, not far from our house. It made me feel so bad. I wonder if I should help the-"

I cut him off. "Caleb, I'm sure they're fine with their accommodations. Plus, they can go into any of the abandoned buildings."

He looks doubtful. "I suppose..."

"Caleb, I'm sure they're there by choice. They'll be fine."

Apparently, the aptitude test does not lie. I could not be Candor if my life depended on it. I lie to easily.


	4. Chapter 4

I look around the pit, trying to be inconspicuous. It is visiting day, and I doubt very much that my parents are going to visit me. I stand out here alone anyway, just in case they do show up. I can't decide if it would be better or worse if they don't come. Probably better-Just recently I have begun to climb up the ranks. Ever since I was ranked sixth in the physical phase, no one has called me stiff. I can't decide if I'm happy or sad about that. It means I'm creating a new, different identity. One closer to being Dauntless and farther from being Abnegation and being my parents daughter.

Then I see her. Not the right _her_, mind you. Grandma Prior has found her way into the compound. What is life.

I walk toward her at a rapid pace. When I reach her, I grab her arm and yank her down a hall. Using my newfound fighting skills, I ram her up against the wall. "What are you doing here?" I hiss through my teeth.

"Beatrice," she barks. "Get a fucking hold of yourself. I'm not just here to visit you, don't feel so special."

I release her and step back. Only then do I notice what she is wearing. "Grandma Prior, why are you dressed like the Dauntless?"

She smirks. "You're so nosy that I would think that you were Erudite, but I don't think you're smart enough."

"Answer the question," I say, trying to sound bored.

She turns around and pulls her pants down enough do I can see her butt crack. "What the hell are you doing? The bathrooms are on the other side of the pit!"

"You dumbass! Look, I have a tramp stamp!"

I squint my eyes, and sure enough, there is a tramp stamp the size of my palm with "No Ragrets" written in script. "Grandma Prior, why did you get a tattoo? And why is regrets spelled wrong?"

"I didn't get a tattoo, I've _had_ a tattoo since I was your age. What do you mean they spelled regrets wrong?"

My mouth gapes open. "You were... Dauntless?"

"No shit Sherlock! Now tell me more about how my tattoo is misspelled."

I spin her around and pull my phone out take a picture. "See, it says 'No Ragrets' instead of 'No Regrets'."

"Goddamn, I've had that thing damn near 60 years and never knew."

"I told you about your tattoo, you need to tell me why you're here now."

"Oh, that. I was Dauntless, then I got kicked out because I was old. But I had family in the Abnegation who were leaders in government, so they took me in. But then they kicked me out."

"Dauntless kicked you out because you were old?" I say in disbelief.

"Yup, and it will happen to you too someday. I still have friends here though, which is why I'm visiting. I visit a lot, actually. Maybe I'll see you around if you can pass initiation," she says with an evil cackle.

She turns and walks out towards the pit. I hesitate only a moment before following her. "It's unfortunate," she says without looking at me, "That you have not filled out at all."

My cheeks heat up, but I stand my ground and don't respond. We look toward the chasm. Standing alone at the railing is Four. "Oh, that's your instructor, right?" says Grandma Prior. I nod without thinking.

"He kind of hot in that tan, British kind of way." she says again. Though I think it is strange that she is commenting on the looks of a teenage boy, I again nod without thinking.

Out of nowhere, she shouts out. "TOBIAS! Get your ass over here!"

Who? I think to myself. But then I see Four visibly flinch. It must be him. He waits a minute, and then casually comes over. "Prior," he says, offering his hand. She takes it.

"So Four... that's a pretty crappy nickname. Would've thought you could have come up with something better."

He rolls his eyes. The tension in his body is unmistakable. They seem to have forgotten about me entirely. "So," he says, looking at me. "She's your grandmother."

I open my mouth to respond, but Grandma Prior beats me to it. "Yes. We're absolutely nothing alike."

I think I hear him mutter_ Thank God_ under his breath, but I could be mistaken. I feel a small smile on my face.

"So ya think she'll make it through initiation in one piece? I personally can't see it happening-"

Four cuts her off. "I think," he says in a dangerously quiet voice, "She will be fine."

It suddenly hits me that I really, really like Four. He's kind of scary, but I appreciate that today. I think he is the only person who could cut off Grandma Prior. Incredible.

Just as I'm thinking all these nice thoughts, he says "Well, I should be going. I'll leave you two to your reunion."

I could kill him for leaving me alone with her.

As he walks away, Grandma Prior starts talking again. "God, Four is such an asshole. I can't even stand him."

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"Enough of him, we need to talk about some stuff," she says before dragging me away from the pit.

"Where-UGH-are we going? God, you don't have hurt me!"

She pushes me towards a door and I stumble into an empty storage room. "Now before you open your pie hole, I have two things to say to you: First, whether or not you admit it, you are a Divergent. I know that. Get over it. Second, I need you to visit Caleb the first chance you get. Tell him to research the simulation serum, okay?"

"Why can't you visit Caleb by yourself, you lazyass?"

"Because they won't let me."

I am about to question her further, but she claps a hand over my mouth. "You unfailingly give me a migraine every single fucking time I am around you. Don't say another word and leave me alone, okay? I'm leaving the compound after I get some Dauntless cake." She turns on her heel and walks out the door.

I stand in the doorway and watch her walk out into the pit. She taps Four on the shoulder and I draw closer to hear what she's saying. "_Tobias_, she told me that she thinks you're hot. Don't you think it's inappropriate to be leading on the initiates?"

I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to digest what I just heard. Oh my God. What if he believes her?

When I finally take my hands away, Grandma Prior is standing ten feet in front of me, looking back over her shoulder at me. She wears a sense of self satisfaction and has a twisted smile on her lips. In that moment, it takes every ounce of self control I possess to not strangle her.


	5. Chapter 5

I turn away from the chasm and see movement on the right side of the Pit. A figure climbs toward the glass ceiling, and judging by the smooth way he walks, like his feet barely leave the ground, I know it is Four. "That sounds great, but I have to talk to Four about something," I say, pointing toward the shadow ascending the path. Her eyes follow my hand. "Are you sure you should be running around here alone at night?" she asks. "I won't be alone. I'll be with Four." I bite my lip.

Christina is looking at Will, and he is looking back at her. Neither of them is really listening to me. "All right," Christina says distantly. "Well, I'll see you later, then." Christina and Will walk toward the dormitories, Christina tousling Will's hair and Will jabbing her in the ribs. For a second, I watch them. I feel like I am witnessing the beginning of something, but I'm not sure what it will be.

I jog to the path on the right side of the Pit and start to climb. I try to make my footsteps as quiet as possible. I run quietly, breathless when I reach the stairs. A hand claps over my mouth, muffling the scream forming in my throat.

Blind terror overtakes my body, as waves of memories from just a few nights ago flood my mind. It must be Peter, it must be him coming to finish the job he started. I have stopped trying to scream, instead sobs wrack through my body. The back of my legs are kicked, and I fall down onto my knees.

I can no longer see Four ahead of me. It is all over, my life is over.

But. But, besides clapping their hand over my mouth and knocking me down, my attacker has not hurt me. They are making no attempt to move my body or beat me senseless. I don't think they hit me in the head, but I am so confused that maybe they have and I just don't remember. They grab my head and put a cover over my eyes so I can't see. Still, they are gentle and I don't feel the sense of urgency that was present when Peter, Al and Drew attacked.

I try sniffing the hand that covers my mouth to see if I can identify the scent, but I can't place a name with the smell of rotting cabbage. I did not see my attackers face because they are behind me. The Erudite in me wants to grasp at facts, but there are no facts available.

"Hey!" I hear shouted from down the hall, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps. Could it be Four? I can only hope.

"Prior, what the hell are you doing?" I am confused. I am doing nothing. I have now crumpled to the floor, the fight has gone out of my body. Perhaps I will die. I can't find it in myself to care.

"God _Four_, what does it look like I'm doing?" says a harsh voice. Apparently the voice of my attacker.

"Get the mask off of her and let her go. What the hell is wrong with you?" Four says.

My attacker lets out a loud sigh. "Fine, whatever."

Now that my fear has subsided slightly, I can think clearly. And I know who the voice belongs to.

"Grandma Prior, what the fuck? Let me go dammit! I'm going to kick your a-" I'm cut off by a firm smack to the head that makes me feel dizzy. Maybe I won't be kicking her ass after all.

"Let her go or I will personally make sure that you find yourself in the bottom of the chasm." Four says. With his threat hanging in the air, she takes my blindfold off and releases me. I see stars as I stumble to my feet.

"Four," I say breathlessly. I don't know how to continue, but I've apparently said enough, because he nods his head at me.

"Tris, come with me." Four says. I walk up to him, so we are standing with our shoulders next to each other. I still feel breathless, but I think it has less to do with just having been attacked, and more to do with standing next to him. "And you," he says, pointing to Grandma Prior, "Need to stay the fuck away from her. Understood?"

She waves her hand to the side, brushing off him remarks and mutters something about dramatic teenagers. She walks away and I am glad.

Once she disappears from sight, I turn to Four. "Why did you come back for me? How did you know I was in trouble?"

His lips curl into a faint smile. "You're not as stealth as you think. I knew you were following me. Which was fine by me, actually. There was something I wanted to show you."

I bite my lip. "Would you still be willing to take me to whatever it is you wanted to show me?

"Sure," he says simply.

He wordlessly takes me past a glass room and through the door of the fear landscape. Four picks up a box and opens it. Inside is a syringe filled with orange liquid.

He swallows and I can see his adam's apple bobbing. "I wanted to go into my fear landscape. With you."

"I can do that?" I ask.

"The serum connects you to the program," he says. "But the program determines whose landscape you go through. And right now, it's set to mine."

"You would let me see that?" I say in disbelief. Fears seem like too personal of a thing to just... share.

"There are some things I want to show you," he says quietly. His eyes never drop mine as we inject each other with the serum.

Four presses a button. "The serum will go into effect in 60 seconds, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper in return. His hand finds mine and I hope he doesn't notice how sweaty my palms are.

After 20 seconds the fear landscape door opens and in comes Grandma Prior. She starts laughing maniacally. "Well, I hate to be the third wheel here, but as they always say, strike while the iron is hot," she says as she walks over to the wall of boxes filled with full syringes.

Four looks horrified. "What the hell?" he yells. I hear desperation in his voice as she injects her neck with the orange serum. He launches himself at her, but it is too late.

Grandma Prior has a wild look in her eye. When she speaks, her voice sounds downright giddy. "I've always wanted to see what the legendary Four's fear landscape looks like! Now I get to see!"

Four looks near tears, and I am unsure of how to comfort him. The serum cannot be stopped now.

The serum takes us away. The floor I stand on is no longer made of cement. It creaks like metal. Grandma Prior cackles in delight. I wonder if it is possible to kill someone while in a simulation.

**Fear landscape will be posted tomorrow**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: This chapter includes lots and lots of curse words and foul language! Please do not proceed if you are not okay with that :)**

Light pours in from all angles, and the city unfolds around us, glass buildings and the arc of train tracks, and we are high above it. I haven't seen a blue sky in a long time, so when it spreads out above me, I feel the breath catch in my lungs and the effect is dizzying. Then the wind starts. It blows so hard I have to lean against Four to stay on my feet. Grandma Prior teeters precariously along the edge of the roof.

Four removes his hand from mine and wraps his arm around my shoulders instead. At first I think it's to protect me—but no, he's having trouble breathing and he needs me to steady him. He forces breath in and out through an open mouth and his teeth are clenched. The height is beautiful to me, but if it's here, it is one of his worst nightmares.

"You're afraid of heights?!" Grandma Prior exclaims, her voice dripping in disbelief. "No wonder you're so anal about not letting the initiates see this. Your stellar reputation would be crushed. This is ridiculous!"

I go to snap back, but I see Fours jaw clench tighter. He does not need me to defend him, he needs me to distract him. "We have to jump off, right?" I shout over the wind. He nods. "On three, okay?" Another nod. "One…two…three!" I pull him with me as I burst into a run.

Grandma Prior sprints at a surprisingly brisk pace. She is even with us for several steps, but then she draws ahead into the lead. She suddenly stops. Before I can think, she sticks her leg out and trips me. I stick my hands out, expecting to hit the roof. But the roof does not come. to meet my body. Probably because my body ended up sliding forward off the edge of the roof and I am now sailing through the air

I fall like a stone, fast, the air pushing back at me, the ground growing beneath me. I hit the ground and roll over onto my back so I am staring straight up at the sky. I laugh. I loved that rush the day I chose Dauntless, and I love it now. I see Four shove Grandma Prior over the edge of the roof and I have to stifle a laugh. I may have left Abnegation, but it still feels sort of wrong to relish in someone else's misfortune.

Grandma Prior hits the ground considerably harder than I did. I can see pain written on her face, but I don't offer to help. "What-" she says between teeth gritted in pain, "Exactly is it that he sees in you? You _stumbled_ off a roof Beatrice. _Stumbled_... do you realize how un-Dauntless that is?" I just shake my head. I don't think he sees anything in me per say, but it is not her place to be gabbing. I watch her take a deep breath. Her eyes pop open suddenly, her face looking as if she just was told the secret to life. "Beatrice... are you blowing him?"

"WHAT?!" I yell. My hands want to wrap themselves around her throat.

My bout of anger is interrupted by Four's arrival. He gasps and presses a hand to his chest. I get up and help him to his feet. "What's next?" "It's—" Something solid hits my spine. I slam into Four, my head hitting his collarbone. Walls appear on my left and my right. The space is so narrow that Four has to pull his arms into his chest to fit. A ceiling slams onto the walls around us with a crack, and Four hunches over, groaning. The room is just big enough to accommodate his size, and no bigger.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are these_ really_ your fears? This is goddamn pathetic! I'm surprised you haven't been kicked out of Dauntless."

Four makes a guttural noise. I tilt my head and pull back enough to look at him. I can barely see his face, it's so dark, and the air is close; we share breaths. He grimaces like he's in pain. "Hey," I say. "It's okay. Here—" I guide his arms around my body so he has more space. He clutches at my back and puts his face next to mine, still hunched over.

"Yup, there's no doubt. You're blowing him. Not such a stiff anymore, huh Beatrice?" Grandma Prior says.

"Will you just _shut the fuck up_, Grandma Prior? No one wants to hear your constant commentary, so just shut your trap!" I snap.

"My Beatrice, you're seeming uncharacteristically... _sharp_ today. Could it be hormones? Is little Beatrice on the rag?"

Blood rushes to my cheeks. _Why_ does she have to say things like this? I'm not even going to acknowledge it, because I know if I think about it anymore, I will end up assaulting her. However, since I am "sharp" today, I can't just let the moment pass. " My name is Tris, get with the fucking program."

His body is warm, but I feel only his bones and the muscle that wraps around them; nothing yields beneath me. My cheeks get hot. Can he tell that I'm still built like a child? "This is the first time I'm happy I'm so small." I laugh. If I joke, maybe I can calm him down. And distract myself from the fact that Grandma Prior is breathing the same air as me.

"I'm not sure _small_ is the right word, as much as sickly looking. I've always thought you looked like something was wrong with you, Beatrice. I mean, it's just not normal for a sixteen year old to have a chest smaller than a boys."

I grit my teeth. "I_ said_ my name is _Tris_. Beatrice is dead. I am Tris."

Grandma Prior snorts. "Whatever you say, dearie."

. Though his voice sounds strained, Four speaks clearly. "Just leave her alone, Eunice.".

"Grandma Prior, your name is _Eunice_? What the hell kinda name is that?"

She stares at the ground wordlessly. Ahah. I have finally found a way to torment her. "Shut up."

I don't say another word, but the smirk on my face says it all. When I speak again, I address Four. "It's easier to face the fear head on, right?" I don't wait for a response. "So what you need to do is make the space smaller. Make it worse so it gets better. Right?" "Yes." It is a tight, tense little word. "Okay. We'll have to crouch, then. Ready?"

I squeeze his waist to pull him down with me. I feel the hard line of his rib against my hand and hear the screech of one wood plank against another as the ceiling inches down with us. I realize that we won't fit with all this space between us, so I turn and curl into a ball, my spine against his chest. One of his knees is bent next to my head and the other is curled beneath me so I'm sitting on his ankle. We are a jumble of limbs. I feel a harsh breath against my ear. "Ah," he says, his voice raspy. "This is worse. This is definitely…" "Shh," I say. "Arms around me." Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no. "The simulation measures your fear response," I say softly. I'm just repeating what he told us, but reminding him might help him. "So if you can calm your heartbeat down, it will move on to the next one. Remember?"

"Yep, that's fine. Just go ahead and fuck while I'm sitting right here."

I try to forget that she's here. "Why don't you tell me where this fear comes from. Maybe talking about it will help us…somehow." I don't know how, but it sounds right. "Um…okay." He breathes with me again. "This one is from my fantastic childhood. Childhood punishments. The tiny closet upstairs." I press my lips together. I remember being punished—sent to my room without dinner, deprived of this or that, firm scoldings. I was never shut in a closet. The cruelty smarts; my chest aches for him. I don't know what to say, so I try to keep it casual. "My mother kept our winter coats in our closet."

"Smooth response, _Tris_, but he's lying. Marcus would never put a child in a closet."

_Who's Marcus_? I silently wonder to myself, but I don't speak the words out loud.

The walls break apart with a crack and fall away, leaving us in a circle of light. Four sighs and lifts his arms from my body. I scramble to my feet and brush myself off, though I haven't accumulated any dirt that I'm aware of. I wipe my palms on my jeans. My back feels cold from the sudden absence of him. He stands in front of me. He's grinning, and I'm not sure I like the look in his eyes.

The moment is broken by Grandma Prior. "Well that was lame." Four doesn't acknowledge her, so I don't either, though it is difficult for me.

Four looks over his shoulder and his voice trails off. A woman stands a few yards away, pointing a gun at us. She is completely still, her features plain—if we walked away right now, I would not remember her. To my right, a table appears. On it is a gun and a single bullet. Why isn't she shooting us? Oh, I think. The fear is unrelated to the threat to his life. It has to do with the gun on the table. "You have to kill her," I say softly. "Every single time." "She isn't real." "She looks real." He bites his lip. "It feels real." "If she was real, would have killed you already." "It's okay." He nods. "I'll just…do it. This one's not…so bad. Not as much panic involved."

"_God_ this guy is a pussy. _These_ are your worst fears?" Grandma Prior unnecessarily pipes up.

Though I don't agree that Four is weak, I am a bit puzzled: These are supposed to be Four's worst fears. And though he panicked in the box and on the roof, he killed the woman without much difficulty. It seems like the simulation is grasping at any fears it can find within him, and it hasn't found much.

"Here we go," he whispers. A dark figure moves ahead of us, creeping along the edge of the circle of light, waiting for us to take another step. Who is it? Who frequents Four's nightmares? The man who emerges is tall and slim, with hair cut close to his scalp. He holds his hands behind his back. And he wears the gray clothes of the Abnegation. "Marcus," I whisper. "Here's the part," Four says, his voice shaking, "where you figure out my name." "Is he…" I look from Marcus, who walks slowly toward us, to Four, who inches slowly back, and everything comes together. Marcus had a son who joined Dauntless. His name was…"Tobias." Marcus shows us his hands. A belt is curled around one of his fists.

Grandma Prior cackles cruelly. "Not very smart, are you _Tris_? I can't believe that you _just_ figured this out. God..."

Slowly he unwinds it from his fingers. "This is for your own good," he says, and his voice echoes a dozen times. A dozen Marcuses press into the circle of light, all holding the same belt, with the same blank expression. When the Marcuses blink again, their eyes turn into empty, black pits. The belts slither along the floor, which is now white tile. A shiver crawls up my spine. The Erudite accused Marcus of cruelty. For once the Erudite were right. I look at Four—Tobias—and he seems frozen. His posture sags. He looks years older; he looks years younger. The first Marcus yanks his arm back, the belt sailing over his shoulder as he prepares to strike. Tobias shrinks back, throwing his arms up to protect his face. I dart in front of him and the belt cracks against my wrist, wrapping around it. A hot pain races up my arm to my elbow. I grit my teeth and pull as hard as I can. Marcus loses his grip, so I unwrap the belt and grab it by the buckle. I swing my arm as fast as I can, my shoulder socket burning from the sudden motion, and the belt strikes Marcus's shoulder. He yells and lunges at me with outstretched hands, with fingernails that look like claws. Tobias pushes me behind him so he stands between me and Marcus. He looks angry, not afraid. All the Marcuses vanish. The lights come on, revealing a long, narrow room with busted brick walls and a cement floor. "That's it?" I say. "Those were your worst fears? Why do you only have four-"

I am cut off by Grandma Prior "Those were your worst fears? What the hell? Those were the fears of a coward. It's a good thing I didn't have to pay for that, or I would be pissed. And why are you afraid of Marcus? That's a bunch of bullshit. He didn't abuse you. Lies, lies, lies."

I walk up to her calmly. I want to sound emotionless, but my voice keeps inconveniently cracking. "You are an asshole, a hypocrite and a liar," I say, my voice gaining volume with every syllable. I can hear my words growing thick with emotion as I continue on, but I don't care. "I used to feel kind of bad for you, living on the streets and all, but you know what? You deserve it. You deserve every bit of crappy luck that has ever come your way. You don't deserve to be alive." With my final sentence, I grab one of the black boxes from the wall and crack it down on the top of her skull. She crumples to the floor, a lifeless form on the cement.

"Oh my God," I whisper. Did I kill her? "Oh my God." I say a bit louder. I crouch down next to her, desperately trying to find a pulse, but I cannot find one. Four seems to come out of his daze and he pushes me aside. He feels her wrists, her chest, for a pulse. Judging by the grim look on his face, he can't find one. He stares at me unblinkingly, words passing between us unspoken. Finally, it is him who speaks up. "You know Tris, she probably will wake up. But we should move her... somewhere, just in case she doesn't. Because this could look a little suspicious."

I gulp hard. Logic. Yes, yes, that is what we should do. "Okay," my voice sounder smaller than I would like.

He picks her body up and slings it over his shoulder, like she is a sack of grain. I trail behind him through a maze of hallways, before he opens a closet door and sets her down gently inside. He closes the door behind her and flicks the lock. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"If... _When_," he corrects himself, "She wakes up, she's a loud pain in the ass. Someone will hear her yells. But I don't want her to just be able to meander on out. I want to make her work for it."

I nod my head in silent agreement. "You don't think I actually killed her... do you?"

He doesn't answer me. I have a pit in my stomach. I switch the subject. "So... Four fears, huh?"

Without warning, he wraps his arms around me and he buries his face in my neck, breathing against my collarbone. I stand stiffly for a second and then loop my arms around him and sigh. "Hey," I say softly. "We got through it. And I really am sorry about Grandma Prior..."

He lifts his head and slips his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. We stare at each other in silence. His fingers move absently over a lock of my hair. "It wasn't your fault. And you got me through it," he says finally.

"Well." My throat is dry. I try to ignore the nervous electricity that pulses through me every second he touches me.

"It's easy to be brave when they're not my fears." I let my hands drop and casually wipe them on my jeans, hoping he doesn't notice. If he does, he doesn't say so. He laces his fingers with mine. "Come on," he says. "I have something else to show you.

I walk next to him to wherever our next destination is. As guilty as it makes me feel, I must admit that I am breathing a bit easier now that I now Grandma Prior can't come after me. I try not to think about her limp body in the closet. I don't know if it would be better if she lives or dies. I try not to care.


End file.
